


A Rainbow of Hope

by TamaraHeartz



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Magnus Bane, Episode: s01e12 Malec, Fluff, I love the wedding kiss but it doesn't happen in this fic, I think?, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, No beta - we die like men I guess, Romance, Then it became a 5.7K baby monster, still don't know how to tag, this was supposed to be 500 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27555376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TamaraHeartz/pseuds/TamaraHeartz
Summary: Alec's gaze falls on him a moment later, and a languid smile that sets his heart ablaze ornates his lips. He puts his phone down on the bedside table, and maneuvers his right arm to rest his head on it."So, me against red silk. Meet your expectations?"
Relationships: Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 54
Kudos: 276
Collections: Favorite Malec Stories





	A Rainbow of Hope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheFoolsKnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFoolsKnight/gifts).



> It's impossible to stop writing for this fandom. Fifty words in, I thought to myself that this fic wouldn't go beyond 500 words. Then this happened.
> 
> I'm not sorry. Enjoy! ✨
> 
> (P.S. Dedicated to @TheFoolsKnight because her works are absolutely amazing!)

_"I will not ask again."_

  
Magnus keeps his promise. It breaks him to do so, but he forces himself to power through it. The mere thought of the dark ink of the wedded union rune stark against Alec's pale skin, drawn by a _woman_ for the sake of _political power_ makes his skin crawl with something akin to revulsion. Pain nips away at his chest, and Magnus Bane finds himself heartbroken all over again.

But this time, he's not even sure what did it. Alec didn't lead him on. He has always been clear about his reservations, his _priorities_ , yet Magnus, Asmodeus' procreated fool, manages to fall headfirst and break his own heart.

You'd think four hundred years on earth would teach him _something_.

No. That's a wrong thought. All those years _did_ teach Magnus to put his feelings on hold. And he was managing to do just fine until Alec came along and unlocked the part of him that he has been hiding for centuries.

Alec, with those hauntingly beautiful eyes, somehow full of warmth and loneliness at the same time. Alec, who didn't hesitate to lend Magnus his power, leaving himself entirely vulnerable to a warlock he exchanged only a few words with. Alec, who had succeeded to win over Magnus' heart with a simple _I trust you; I don't know why, but I do._

Magnus plops down on his sofa, and summons himself a glass of _Whiskey on Rocks._ Isabelle's fire message is carefully tucked inside the photo album on his lap, the burnt edges peeking out. He doesn't want to see it.

It's a request. To stop her brother from ruining his life.

A request Magnus can't help but scoff at. As though he hasn't been trying. As though Magnus isn't getting his heart broken every time Alec opens his mouth to inform him how _solid_ the partnership is.

He takes a sip from his drink, relishing the burn on his palate. He's been in this position so many times before, yet it never stops hurting less. There's no specific way to deal with a broken heart - every tactic a success until the next.

However, this time Magnus didn't even get the chance to properly give his heart away before Alec declined him. If Ragnor was here, he would laugh at his naivety.

Right. Ragnor.

Magnus doesn't have time to save some obstinate, absolutely gorgeous _nephilim_ from himself. He has a dead best friend to mourn.

Chairman Meow's pitiful mewls and the sound of him scratching on glass makes Magnus crane his neck to get a glance at the balcony. He must've accidentally locked the cat out.

With a sigh, he gets up, places the album and the whiskey on the coffee table and slides the glass door open to let his cat in. The sun has long set, leaving a remainder of mulberry and coral tints splattered across the darkening sky. It reminds Magnus of an artist's palette.

Alec must've already gotten married. He's probably celebrating his _political success_ with a flute of champagne, surrounded by higher ranking bigots, semi-bigoted family and lower ranking equally bigoted foot soldiers. And his _wife_. Who is a remarkable woman, but a woman nevertheless.

Or maybe he's just as miserable as Magnus. Maybe he's lamenting over the _relationship that could've been_. Maybe he's dreading the marriage, a matter of _forever_ with Lydia. And from whatever little Magnus knows, Alec is probably going through all of that alone, refusing to let his sister and his _parabatai_ in and putting on a stoic facade.

Magnus closes his eyes, heaves out a breath, and resumes his seat on the couch. He is supposed to mourn Ragnor, for fuck's sake. Not plaint over a married Shadowhunter who refuses to do something about the fact that he likes dicks.

He wants to do nothing but portal over to Catarina's, crawl into her arms and reminisce about the good ol' days - like that particularly memorable trip to Peru where Magnus' magnificent _charango_ playing skills was one equally magnificent performance away from making him the original Jaime Guardia. Or that absolutely ballistic time the three of them had in Vegas where Ragnor got _so_ drunk on _Scotch with a Seelie twist_ that he ended up proclaiming his love to a lamp post and kicking Magnus in the balls when he tried to stop him from making out with said lamp post.

Oh, how he's going to miss that bugger.

But Cat has an evening shift at the hospital, and even though she cried herself until her eyes were red and cheeks were splotchy, she decided to use the distraction. And Magnus didn't want to show his desperation by doing something utterly humiliating, like getting on his knees and begging her to stay and hold him.

Sometimes, being a warlock is dreadfully lonely.

Magnus is pouring himself his third glass when he feels his wards shift, alerting him of the presence of a _nephilim_. And this is the last thing he wants today.

Nevertheless, he's the High Warlock of Brooklyn and any unsuspecting individual, even if it is one of those atrocious species, is welcome. He waits for them to knock, and the person is clearly hesitating, judging from the hovering presence he can feel in his primary wards.

A _nephilim_ not barging in unannounced and making unsolicited demands? Must be Isabelle or Clary. The Wayland boy is too tactless to hover.

When a timid knock comes a minute later, Magnus takes his sweet time to put his drink back, touch up on his makeup and change his clothes to a standard shirt and pants, and of course, an opalesce garnet vest for his signature shine. Once he makes sure that all the traces of grief are gone from his face, he opens the door with a flick of his magic.

And promptly loses his breath.

Because the angel-blooded warrior standing on his threshold is _Alexander_.

Alexander, who looks absolutely scrumptious in his white suit that shimmers gold under the light, and equally debauched sporting a mess of curls atop his head.

Alexander, in his wedding suit.

And by Lilith, if that sight isn't doing _things_ to Magnus.

He ransacks through his brain for something witty and snippy and tries to ignore the hypothetical puddle of drool on the floor, but Alec interrupts his efforts by running his fingers through his hair and _how the hell does one look so fucking hot doing that?_

"Can I stay the night?"

Magnus feels a frown etching on his forehead. "If you're trying to hide your sexuality, I don't think spending your wedding night with a _man_ is the best approach."

Alec shakes his head, then looks at Magnus, the beautiful hazel eyes bright. "I called it off. The--um, the wedding."

The bud of hope that Magnus was trying to bury blooms again in his chest, even though he tries to reprimand himself. It's not like Alec came back and confessed his undying love.

Magnus moves aside to let him in, and immediately finds his jaw on the floor when Alec makes a beeline for Magnus' half-poured drink, picks it up and knocks it back. He scrunches up his face adorably and coughs, then looks at the drink like it has personally offended him.

"What _is_ this?"

Magnus raises his eyebrow. "It's a three hundred year old whiskey, but feel free to chug it down like a frat boy."

"What's a frat boy?"

Magnus tries his best not to roll his eyes, but fails. "Nevermind that, Alexander. Would you mind elaborating on what your said earlier? About the wedding?"

Alec puts his glass back on the table and drops down on the couch, hunching his shoulders, every plain lined with exhaustion. "I panicked, and instead of drawing the rune on Lydia's hand, I blurted out that I--I'm gay. Quite loudly, in fact. I think I startled her momentarily, but she seemed relieved after a while."

Well, a remarkable woman indeed.

Magnus sits next to Alec, keeping a few feet between them even though it physically hurt him to be away. He pointedly takes his gaze off the anxious figure and asks, "I take it that Maryse and Robert aren't taking it in stride?"

Alec scoffs as he rubs his face with his palm. "It's not just them. The entire institute, except Jace, Izzy, Clary and that vampire, kept giving me a wide berth. And I was fine with it until Raj came up and asked me if I was interested in taking it up the ass."

Magnus takes Alec's words with wide eyes. What happened to the guy that stammered his way through their first drink?

"I just," he trails off, picking at the skin on the back of his hand. "I just don't want to handle all the backlash today. And yes, I took the coward's way out by coming here, but I'm tired of having to answer to people about my choices."

This is the most Alec has ever ever spoken to him. Even on that night he stayed back after healing Luke, it was Magnus who did most of the talking, regaling in his past adventures to a wide-eyed, tipsy Alec. It seems like the three century old whiskey has done it's job.

But something Alec said bothers him. "You're not a coward, darling. You just realized, albeit late, that _you_ should love yourself too."

Alec shakes his head, a bitter smile on his lips. "I wouldn't be too sure about that. But I--can I stay the night, please? I'll sleep on the couch and be out of your hair first thing in the morning, I promise."

Magnus' heart weeps at the blatant display of vulnerability. He gives him a soft smile and gestures towards his loft, "I don't mean to brag, but this _is_ a penthouse. Which means I have plenty of room for you to stay in, and regardless of how comfortable the couch is, I don't think your back will appreciate if you spend the night on it."

Alec nods. "Thank you, Magnus. And about what I said before--"

Magnus cuts him off with a sweep of his hand. "What you said was unfair, but I understand where you were coming from. It must be terrifying to undo everything you've been taught as a child."

He notices the subtle clench of jaw, before Alec offers him a slow nod. "Right. Yes." He fumbles for something in his pocket and fishes out his phone, mumbling, "I should let Izzy know about this before she starts worrying."

Magnus summons himself another drink, something weaker this time and a Lemon Drop for Alec, which they had found to be compatible with his tastes. Alec hisses something along the lines of _that is very inappropriate, Isabelle! I'm not going to tell him that!_ into his phone and hands up. Magnus finds himself desperately wanting to know what the conversation was about.

Alec turns his phone off and puts it down on the table. He takes the offered drink from Magnus' hands, their fingers brushing ever so lightly, igniting warmth in his chest, and Magnus wonders what it would be like to hold hands with him.

Magnus is not short by any means, but compared to Alec's giant 6'3", any average person would end up feeling small. And by that blessing, those hands look big enough to engulf Magnus'. Maybe they're a little calloused from scrapes and bruises that are an inevitable part of his job, but warm and comfortable.

"Uh, everything okay?"

Blinking back, Magnus meets Alec's gaze, a little anxious and hesitant. "Of course, Alexander. Why would you think otherwise?"

"If you stare at my hands any longer, they're going to go up in flames."

Magnus raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "You mean they can be hotter than they already are?"

Alec's flushed cheeks and fumbled out reply encourages Magnus to take pity on him and change the topic. "Would you like to watch a movie?"

There is a pause. "Like those mundane moving pictures that serve no purpose?"

"Honestly, you sound like you were brought up in the 1600s. But yes, those mundane moving pictures that serve a very important purpose - entertainment."

Alec makes a face.

And Magnus makes a face in return. "Not that you would know anything about that. Tell me, what do you do in your free time?"

"Train."

The temptation of drowning Alec in his drink was intense, but Magnus refrains from doing so. "Let's watch _Mean Girls._ "

"They're making films about rude women?"

" _Girls_. They're kids."

"We're going to watch a movie about rude kids?"

"Alec?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Shut up."

Halfway through the movie, their stomach grumbles in sync, and Magnus hides his embarrassment with a cough, before flicking his wrist and conjuring a few boxes of takeout from his favourite Ethiopian place.

And immediately, he can feel Alec judging him. "Did you pay for these?"

Magnus rolls his eyes. Stupid shadowhunters and their stupid morals. He flicks his wrist again, then tilts his head and smiles sardonically. "Yes, I believe I did. Ethiopian?"

"I've never had any, but sure."

Alec takes the offered fork and takeout box from Magnus, and the spicy, mouthwatering aroma wafts through the room as soon as he opens it. He stabs his fork into a slice of beef that has been pan fried in butter, garlic and onion, or more commonly known as _Shekla Tibs_ in Ethiopia.

Magnus does the same, and almost spits out his food at Alec's loud, delighted moan reverberating in the air.

By Lilith, that puts images in Magnus' head that are too inappropriate for dinner.

But Alec seems dead to his inner struggle as he continues his ministrations with a second slice of beef.

"I've been running on nourishment rune since yesterday."

_That_ tampers Magnus' libido down. Alec is _hungry_ , for fuck's sake. And Magnus knows that he would spend all his money and _then_ some if it means that Alec doesn't have to live on a rune. And that was a _lot_ of money.  
  
"Wedding jitters?"

"What? No." He says, gulping his mouthful of food first. "I haven't had time, what with Izzy's trial, receiving the Clave emissaries, suit fittings and all."

"Sounds fun."

Alec flouts, then proceeds to stuff his face with food. Magnus watches him intently, unable to keep the adoration off his face.

When he first met the closeted, stammering shadowhunter who complimented a warlock on his fighting skills without a sense of bigotry, brightened up like the northern lights when Magnus introduced himself, and shuddered when they held hands during the summoning - he wanted to do nothing but drag Alec to the bed and _ruin_ him.  
  
But now, watching Alec lounge on his couch, comfortable and safe, all he wants to do is wake up next to him every morning and make him breakfast. And _what a fucking terrifying thought it is._

"Why aren't you eating?"

Magnus smiles. "It's fascinating to watch someone you... _care about_ be content with something."

Alec pauses, fork in mouth, and Magnus thinks he's pushed it too far. He has already put all his eggs in the same basket while trying to convince Alec not to marry a woman. He's not going to test his luck any further.

But Alec, _sweet, tenderhearted Alec_ , pulls the fork out, digs around his bowl, jabs the utensil into a hefty piece of meat and brings it closer to Magnus' mouth.

Magnus hears his heart sing with joy. _But_ opens his mouth to deliver his favourite quip of all time.

"Why, Alexander, I would _never_ refuse your meat."

And Magnus believes it took all of Alec's _nephilim_ strength to not shove the fork into his eye.

He does his sexy one-eyed squint instead. "I'm not sure who's been feeding you lies, but your jokes aren't actually funny."

The glitter of amusement in Alec's eyes say otherwise, but Magnus doesn't comment on it. Rather, he wraps his lips around the fork and looks up at Alec from beneath his lashes seductively, before tugging the piece of beef off and slowly moving away.

Alec's hand hovers in the air for a moment, eyes fixated on Magnus' lips, and then he gulps and looks away with a shaky breath.

Magnus gives himself a mental high-five. He's still got it, it seems.

Alec busies himself with the food, occasionally pushing the bowl towards Magnus, letting him feed himself and keeps the conversation to a minimum.

And that's when Magnus realizes that Alec is still in his wedding clothes, only without the suit jacket. Not that he minds the sight, far from it, but it can't really be comfortable.

"Would you like me to summon some clothes for you?"

Alec looks down at himself, then back up at Magnus sheepishly. "Uh, yes, please. I didn't get a chance to change after the not-wedding."

Magnus shakes his head. "What do you sleep in?  
  
"Just a t-shirt would be fine. It's in my closet."

He wants to laugh at the naivety, but doesn't want to make his guest feel insulted. So, Magnus comments with voice filled with mirth, "you're yet to take me to your bedroom, Alexander. I don't know where your closet is. Also, my wards prevent me from summoning things from The Institute."

Alec blushes. "Oh, um, when you offered, I just thought that-"

"I was planning to get you something from the store."

"Right, uh, of course."

And if Magnus summons Alec a t-shirt and shorts a size smaller, then well, it's only for him to indulge in.

They're stuffed full of the rest of the delightful food when the movie ends an hour later. Alec finishes off his Lemon Drop - Magnus has been lowering the amount of triple sec with every glass - and leans back into the couch, a relaxed, blissful look on his face.

"I'll deny it with my dying breath if you bring this up, but I actually enjoyed the movie."

Magnus stands up and stretches his arms. "Your secret is safe with me, darling. Now," he spins around with a twist of his ankle, smiling because he's never had so much fun watching a movie he's already seen a hundred times, "off to bed? You've had a long day and frankly, I'm exhausted too."

Alec nods, then pushes himself up and winces. "I think my strength rune is burning out. I've already reapplied it thrice since morning."

"That's an alarming thing to say, Alexander. I'm tempted to whisk you away to a well-deserved vacation."

"A vacation sounds absolutely delightful right now."

As they walk down the hallway towards the living quarter, Magnus asks, "where would you like to go?" And immediately adds, "hypothetically, of course."

"I've never been to anywhere but Idris, but I've heard that the Rome Institute is wonderful."

The pair stop in front of the guest bedroom, and Magnus makes a face. "Vising an _Institute_ isn't much of a _vacation_."

At least Alec has the decency to blush. "Like I said, I haven't been anywhere. What would you suggest?"

"Tokyo and Prague, at the top of my head. Paris, Singapore and Bangkok." He stops himself from adding _Indonesia_ at the last second.

The smile on Alec's face turns into a grimace. "Yet, the only place I'm going to be at tomorrow is The New York Institute."

Magnus draws himself closer and sympathetically pats Alec's chest, feeling the hard muscles tighten beneath his fingers. He wants to tug the shirt out of his pants, slip his fingers underneath it and tweak his ni-- _focus_.

Magnus clears his throat of the sudden lump. "Get some sleep, darling. Your clothes are in the attached bath."

Alec's hand slowly trails up to hold Magnus' against his chest, grip tight and desperate. The loud, erratic thumping of heartbeat under his fingers resonate through Magnus' entire being, somehow managing to dull his inhibitions even more than the lingering taste of whiskey on his tongue.

Hazel eyes flicker back and forth, from Magnus' lips to his eyes, and Alec wets his plush bottom lip before meeting Magnus' gaze again - and doesn't look away this time.

"Magnus," Alec whispers in the dim butterscotch light, cheeks flushed from the drink he's had earlier. He rocks closer, and there's only a few inches between them when he mumbles, "Magnus, can I--"

And suddenly Magnus remembers the amount of alcohol Alec consumed and the fact that he's a lightweight, and his palm against Alec's chest automatically steels.

Alec freezes.

"We've both had some drinks, Alec. I don't want you to do something you're might regret tomorrow."

"I'm not _drunk_ ," Alec replies lamely.

"No, but you're tipsy. And I don't-"

Apprehension glimmers in his eyes when Alec cuts him off with a fond sigh, lips tilted upwards in the ghost of a crooked smile. "I understand."

Magnus pats Alec's chest again, for the scientific purpose of memorizing the feel of it under his hand, of course, and bids him goodnight. He makes his way to his bedroom, and casts one last glance to the lingering shadow in front of Alec's room, and forces himself inside.

Magnus is almost done undressing when Alec knocks on his door. He's tempted to greet him in his boxers, but doesn't want to scare Alec away and swings the door open decked in a purple silk robe that is sliding off his left shoulder.

"There's a cat," is what Alec greets him with.

Magnus raises an eyebrow. "Proceed."

Alec has already changed into his sleepwear, clothes tight in all the right places as he fumbles with the edge of his sweatshirt, suddenly nervous. "There's a cat sleeping on my--um, on the bed and I don't want to wake it up."

"Oh, that'll be Chairman Meow."

At Alec's blank stare, he dismisses the topic with a wave of his hand. "Mundane communist. Anyways, you can just wake him up. It's alright."

Alec nods, but doesn't make a move to walk away. He's hesitating about something and it infuriates Magnus that he can't figure out what it is. Magnus gives him a minute to speak, and he does make some false starts, but after a while, his curiosity gets the better of him.

"What's bothering you, darling?"

Alec sighs, looks down at his bare feet and shyly meets his eyes. "Can I stay with you?"

Magnus feels his entire world tilt. "Oh, Alexander--"

"I won't touch you or anything," Alec scrambles to add, "I promise. I just want to--"

"It's not my _virtue_ I'm worried about."

"I--then?"

He has hoped this wouldn't come up, but there was no skirting around it now. "It feels like a fever dream." Magnus clarifies, "you _wanting_ to be with me, that is."

"What do you mean?"

"You flinched away and made sure no one saw you with me when I offered to heal your Forsaken wound. You told me to _back off_ , explicitly. So pardon me if I sound dubious of your words."

Magnus wasn't aware of the heat in his voice until he sees Alec's face drop, whatever hope shimmering in his eyes now only a wisp. "Right, I-I'm sorry. I'll back off. Sorry."

"Wait."

"No, Magnus. You're right. I've treated you like, _fuck_ , like _shit_ while you've been trying to make me see reason. I deserve to--"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, darling." That earns Magnus an incredulous look. "Yes, you've made some questionable choices and said some harsh things, but you've also made me trust you in the blink of an eye. And after you've walked a few hundred years on earth, that's a big accomplishment."  
  
Alec swallows and nods, gaze set firmly on Magnus as though he's pointedly trying to avoid the sliver of bare chest exposed by the collar of the robe.

"Now, I know it's hard to keep your hands off of this," Magnus adds a flourish to his hands while gesturing to his body, "so beware before you crawl into my bed."

The lovely flush in Alec's cheeks sink down to his neck and disappear under the collar of his pullover. Magnus almost misses the mumbled _it really is,_ but successfully erases any lewd thought from his head by imagining his non-existent drooling grandmother.

Magnus moves aside to let Alec in, and in the blink of an eye, the lavish golden duvet turns to crimson with a flick of his fingers. That earns him a curious look.

Magnus grins cheekily. "I've always imagined how your gorgeous body would look like against garnet silk." He makes a show of running his gaze over the sweatshirt clad figure, and hums quietly, "it's a shame that you'll be dressed."

Without giving Alec a chance to react, he spins around and asks over to the bathroom. "Make yourself at home, darling," Magnus calls out over his shoulder, "I'll be out in a minute."

He finishes his ten-step skincare routine and slides out of his robe tentatively. He's used to sleeping in his boxers, and rarely spends the night with someone platonically, and therefore isn't familiar with the norms it entails. He doesn't want to give up his comfort, neither does he want to make Alec uncomfortable. A few minutes of inner dilemma later, he shrugs on the discarded robe and heads out to ask Alec about it.

And gets his breath knocked out of him.

Alec is stretched out on top of the covers, idly swiping through his phone, _naked_.

Okay, so not _naked_ naked, he's still in his shorts, but showing enough skin to give Magnus a cardiac arrest. His hair is mussed up, dark curls sticking out in every direction and the galaxy of black runes and a handful of dark hair smattered across his chest is suddenly the most breathtaking thing Magnus has ever seen. Alec is a painting, a figment of a whimsical dream, airing quicksilver hope in Magnus' heart.

Alec's gaze falls on him a moment later, and a languid smile that sets his heart ablaze ornates his lips. He puts his phone down on the bedside table, and maneuvers his right arm to rest his head on it.

"So, me against red silk. Meet your expectations?"

Coming out has done miracles for his confidence, that's for sure.

Magnus hasn't even gotten the respite to appreciate his fantasy, too busy having his breath stolen by the object of his wet dreams.

No. Not just his wet dreams. He wants to crawl into bed, bury his face in Alec's neck, have himself cuddled in his chest and spend the rest of his immortal life there. He wants to let himself be loved and cared for by this _nephilim_ and this _nephilim_ only.

Magnus abandons his robe and relishes in the way Alec's heavy haze draws over him, memorizing every curve and shade.

"Alexander," his voice drops an octave, "you are _précieux_."

Alec frowns. "Is that a mundane disease?"

"No," Magnus whispers and crawls over Alec, abandoning all his rational thoughts. "It means exquisite. Soignée, _cintaku_."

Alec shivers at the slow drag of their warm skin again each other, and shakily breathes out. It's evident how he tries to sound unaffected and fails spectacularly when he whispers, "I don't understand half the thing you're saying."

Magnus stops right on top of him, setting his hands on either side of Alec's head, his face hovering inches away from Alec's when he takes a moment to savour the pinpricks of electricity at every point of contact. Alec's cheekbones are highlighted in the warm honey light and the apple of his cheeks are powdered with a stunning blush, yet Magnus' eyes are drawn to his lips, worried red and tantalizing.

He feels Alec's breath hitch, but before he can retreat, a hand is splayed on his waist. Magnus looks up to meet Alec's eyes, the hazel almost engulfed in black. And that's when he knows that he's not alone. He's not the only one who feels this way, who wants the possibility of love to consume him.

Magnus leans down and captures Alec's bottom lip in between his, and devours the errant whimper that leaves his chest. His lips are soft and a little cold, so Magnus makes it his mission to warm them up. Alec gives his upper lip a suck, tentatively sweeping his tongue over it. Magnus reciprocates by biting down on his lip, igniting a moan and then gently sucking on it to soothe the sting.

Alec's hands come up to cradle his face lovingly. He parts his legs and Magnus settles down between his thighs, shuddering in delight as the muscular legs tighten almost possessive around him.

Magnus licks at the seam of Alec's lips, and when he gasps, takes the opportunity to lick into his mouth. Their tongues meet and Alec is the first one to tease Magnus' with his, hot and soft and citrusy from the Lemon Drop.

When his elbows strain from holding his weight for so long, Magnus gently lowers himself on Alec, hoping he doesn't make Alec nervous with his rapid heartbeat. But Alec doesn't seem to mind, because he tightens his hold on the small of Magnus' back, trembling at the delicious brush of their naked chest and thrusts his tongue into Magnus' mouth.

An embarrassingly loud moan leaves Magnus, but he quickly drops all other notions to kiss Alec back with equal fervour.

Seconds, minutes, or _hours_ later - Magnus has no clue - when breathing becomes a necessity than a luxury, their lips part with a soft smack.

Alec has his eyes closed and looks sinfully debauched. He's panting heavily and a rush of pride washes over Magnus because he did _that_. He's the reason for the flushed cheeks and the ghost of a smile on Alec's face.

Magnus doesn't want the heat to burn out and latches on to Alec's neck, starting with a gentle nip on the invitingly drawn deflect rune. Alec jolts back to life underneath him and moans, grip hardening on Magnus' waist, possibly leaving finger-shaped bruises on him. And the thought of having Alec's marks on him makes Magnus suck on the bruise even harder.

" _Nnnh_ , Magnus." Alec groans when his hips jerk up conclusively to meet Magnus', the friction induced by their boxers almost an aphrodisiac.

" _Alexander_ ," Magnus sighs against the skin and lifts his head up to admire the blooming red mark, which should darken up deliciously on Alec's neck within the next hour. Magnus goes back in and drops a kiss over the bruise to ease the burn.

Alec's wandering hands over the planes of his back leave goosebumps in their wake, and Magnus discards all his inhibitions in favour of tucking his face in the crook of Alec's neck and snuggling on top of him, sighing in felicity at the warm embrace.

He is supposed to be a coy, hedonistic warlock, damn it! Not turn into a mush after a single, albeit _mind-blowing_ , kiss.

Alec buries his face in Magnus' hair, now devoid of any product, and leaves an affectionate kiss on his head, then muffles his laugh in his hair.

"What?"

Alec inhales, and presses his lips against Magnus' forehead when he lifts his head just a little bit to get a good look at him. "I thought I'd be fine without _this_ in my life. I...I guess I just got too good at lying to myself."

Magnus nods empathetically and rolls off of Alec, instantly missing the warmth and sense of security. He clears his throat. "And what _is_ this, exactly?"

Alec makes a noise in the back of his throat. "Do we have to talk about this right now?"

"Well, it's still early. I've never gone to bed at eleven, but if you're sleepy, then of course--"

"No," Alec turns on his side and faces Magnus, "I want to talk."

"About?"

"Anything else." He slides closer to Magnus and intertwines their fingers, an act so small yet so significant to both of them. "Tell me about Michelangelo."

Magnus blinks in confusion. Michelangelo? He died in 16th century and though Magnus likes to act all old and wise, he isn't _that_ old.

"Michelangelo, he was...a sculptor. And a painter. Had a beard. Orange."

Alec doesn't say anything for a while and opts to stare at him, gaze intense. And then he smiles as though he knows something Magnus doesn't, and Magnus is worried.

"You've never met him, have you?"

"Uh, no? He died before I was born."

"I knew it!" Alec almost shoots up in excitement, but Magnus doesn't want to let go of his fingers, so he clasps on to them tightly. "I've looked him up, and frankly, he doesn't seem like your type."

"Darling, are you calling me shallow?"

"Well, _no_ but-- you told us that you slept with Michelangelo."

"I recall no such thing."

Alec makes a face and makes his voice squeaky when he says, " _Oh, the only other person I've known who could draw as well was Michelangelo. Who was excellent in bed, I might add."_

"I do _not_ sound like that!" Magnus swats his arm with his free hand when he remembers what Alec is referring to. "And did you just quote me, word by word?"

Alec ducks his head and starts rubbing his thumb on the back of Magnus' hand, and all on a sudden, he's flustered. "I...that day, you were the most fascinating person I'd ever met. I just...I--"

Not wanting to torture him any longer, Magnus scoots closer to the warm heat of the body, and smiles. "That _Michelangelo_ comment was me making sure you knew that I'm bisexual."

With a blush adorning his cheeks, Alec's leans down to gently press his lips against Magnus', keeping the kiss as chaste as possible. Magnus sighs. It's just a simple touch of lips, but it makes Magnus' heart thump fast against his chest. And he's terrified. Terrified of falling too fast.

Alec pushes himself up against Magnus, so close that every plane of their bodies are in contact, and the dread in Magnus' heart is replaced by a rainbow of hope. He knows the coming days aren't going to be easy, with the brewing war, Alec facing ineluctable backlash for being gay, for - hopefully - wanting to be with Magnus. But if he gets to feel the serenity of being held in Alec's arms, Magnus thinks he's ready to take on Lilith herself.

So he kisses Alec back, slow and languid, and lets go of his fingers in favour of snaking his arm around Alec's waist. Alec immediately responds by deepening the kiss, and Magnus can't help but smile.

He isn't scared of falling anymore.  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Leave a kudos and drop a comment if you enjoyed it ❤


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